Enara went silent, but I didn't miss the sly grin tugging at her lips. It was the kind of grin that said she was plotting something diabolical. And knowing her, that something was going to make my day even worse.
"Alright, back on your feet," Seraphis barked. She strode forward, spinning her spear like it was an extension of her arm. "We're moving on to the next phase of your training: controlled sparring."
"Controlled?" I echoed, wobbling to my feet. My legs still felt like cooked noodles. "How about gentle sparring? Or maybe, you know, imaginary sparring?"
"Controlled sparring," she repeated firmly, ignoring my protests. "Which means you and Enara will face each other, but no fireballs that could melt the walls this time." Her eyes flicked pointedly toward the charred marks from my earlier misfire. "Think of this as a test of precision, not power."
"I'm doomed," I muttered under my breath.
